


No one will ever know our names

by amako



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Fix-It of Sorts, French Folklore, Ghosts, Horror, M/M, No Uchiha Massacre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 11:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15605511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amako/pseuds/amako
Summary: Suddenly, the man looks up. His blood-red eyes stare straight at Madara, like terrible stains on his white skin.“Can you help me?” the man says. “Can you help me wash the sheet?”





	No one will ever know our names

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raendown](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/gifts).



> Written for MadaTobi week, day 6: Supernatural/Fantasy
> 
> Also a gift to Rae, cause she rocks.
> 
> Just so you know, I'm in love with the AU I made here, and even if there's no room to expand it, here's the deal:  
> • basically Itachi and Sasuke have traded with Madara and Izuna in the timeline, but because of personalities, there's no resentment towards the Uchiha, no Uchiha police, no Uchiha massacre  
> • also because of that, Obito had a family so he was a good shinobi and didn't die under a rock  
> • Minato is still Hokage, Kushina is still Kurama's host  
> • Naruto's main technique is the chakra chains and he's a seal master  
> • Sakura stealed Zabuza's sword when she was a genin and she's a kenjutsu master who uses chakra to cover her sword and make it sharper
> 
> Yeah I had fun, basically.

His pay weighting in his pocket, Madara waves goodbye to Sakura and Naruto. His teammates wave back, promising to meet the next day. Madara can't wait to head home. They've been gone over a month and the only thing on his mind for the past few days had been Izuna. His baby brother is so young, and Madara fears the minds of children, too keen on forgetting.

Neither of their parents is home, so he heads straight for the day care. Goichi meets him at the door, a kind smile on his tired face. He doesn't have to be asked; Goichi takes him to a large room where several children are playing. At the intrusion of an adult, most of them turn in his direction. Izuna's face lights up instantly, and something sweet settles inside of Madara.

 

“Brother!”

 

Madara hides a smile behind his usual scowl, but Izuna isn't fooled. All of his five kilos and a half collide with his legs. Madara picks him up and spins him around, grinning without shame.

 

“I'm so happy you're back! I didn't know when I'd see you again.”

“I'm here now, Izuna. Shall I take you home?”

“Yeah!”

 

Madara laughs at his excitement. Four years old, a missing tooth and a bright mind, all of which he loves with all his heart. He says goodbye to Goichi and leaves the daycare, Izuna on his shoulders waving at everyone they pass by.

 

“Can we stop for dango?”

“It's a bit late, Izuna, I'm sorry.”

The kid pouts. “Please?”

“Ha, why not,” Madara sighs, putting his brother down. “Go home, I'll go buy some and I'll meet you there.”

 

Izuna runs off with a laugh and a delighted expression, and Madara curses his brother's adorable face. Winter means short days and Konoha is already bathed in moonlight, though it's not particularly late.

The Uchiha Compound is built near the Nara lands, and it's quicker to go through the forest than to go all the way around the Inuzuka kennels. If he wants to get to the centre in time, he has to hurry and follow the Naka river. Perks of being one of the best shinobi of his generation, and the Yellow Flash's son teammate, Madara is _fast_.

The deer give him strange looks as he shunshins through the edge of the Nara forest, quickly finding the river and following it back to the village. Madara grins, enjoying the freedom of running for something so simple, without fearing for his life. Speed is the Yondaime's thing, but he definitely sees the appeal.

He takes a sharp turn when the river widens, but something catches his eye and he stumbles, trying to slow down. Leaning on a tree to recover his balance, Madara stares at the water.

There is a man, dressed in a formal kimono so complicated Madara has trouble identifying the layers. The moon shines a hypnotizing halo around his head, white hair like a firefly in the night. He's white on white, only his eyes standing out like bleeding sharingan on his face.

Madara remembers to breathe as he watches the man plunge a cloth in the river. He's washing it, twisting it and plunging it again. It looks like a sheet, but what's a man dressed in a formal kimono doing washing bedsheets at night in the forest?

Suddenly, the man looks up. His blood-red eyes stare straight at Madara, like terrible stains on his white skin.

 

“Can you help me?” the man says. “Can you help me wash the sheet?”

 

Madara has faced dozens of enemies, taken down nations with his team. He has seen bijuu and monsters, and hasn't backed down once. Yet he takes a step back. Then another one.

As the man opens his mouth once more, Madara turns around and _runs_.

 

 

 

It takes him more than an hour to calm down. Hysteria like he's never known before has replaced the blood in his veins. All he can think of are those eyes, and the way the sheet was twisted, and twisted, and _twisted_...

It's more than he can take. He has never felt such raw, pure, terror. So as he finds his breathing, he makes a clone and sends it to look after Izuna. Then he goes looking for his teammates.

He finds Naruto and Sakura where they always are late at night: at the bar. Naruto is picking up girls for Sakura, Sakura is drinking and ignoring the girls, it's normalcy at its finest and it helps Madara relax.

 

“Hey, you're here! I thought you'd be with Izuna.”

Madara doesn't waste time. “I need your help, right now.”

“Is something wrong?” Sakura is on her feet immediately. “Is Izuna okay?”

“He's fine. But I saw something near the Naka river. It's not human.” He takes a deep breath. “And it's terrifying.”

 

Naruto's face instantly grows serious. Neither of his teammates makes a comment about him finding anything frightening. They know better. Whatever that thing is, they're taking it seriously now.

 

“Let's go find it.”

 

Madara activates his sharingan as soon as they get into the forest. Naruto's chakra chains are wrapped around his fists and shimmering orange into the night. Sakura is a dark figure by their side, silent, Kubikiribōchō strapped to her back like an armour.

A part of him expects the creature to be gone, just a hallucination caused by exhaustion and too many horrors seen during his service. But the man is still kneeling by the river, washing the sheet. He shivers, the absolute darkness of its body, like it's sucking all the chakra around without having a drop of it itself.

Those eyes look up again. Madara feels nauseous.

 

“Can you help me?” the man says.

“Why?” Sakura asks.

“Can you help me wash the sheet?”

 

Madara swallows, terror and revulsion battling in his stomach. At his side, Naruto shifts, before stepping forward.

 

“What are you doing?” he hisses.

 

Naruto doesn't answer. He walks in the man's direction.

 

“Come back, idiot!”

“Naruto, stop!”

 

He doesn't listen. Just in case, Madara whispers a _kai_ under his breath, but nothing changes and Naruto is still walking. Sakura jumps forward and takes him by the arm, bringing him back a good few steps away from the creature.

 

“Who are you? What do you want?” Sakura asks, struggling to keep Naruto close to her.

“Help me,” the man whispers. “Help me wash it.”

 

There is something in his voice, something sweet and gentle like walnuts dipped in honey. Madara holds his breath and takes a step in his direction. By his side, Naruto and Sakura have done the same, barely breathing, all their intent on helping that beautiful man wash his bedsheet.

Madara kneels by the river and grabs the other end of the cloth. The man smiles and it brightens his whole face, and he's so beautiful Madara can't seem to think anymore. He twists the sheet, the man twists it the other way and water drips from the folds. He watches, mesmerized, as the water leaves the fabric, beads of red dropping and colouring the river.

_Red._

Naruto's scream smacks him just as he realizes. The sheet in his hands isn't fabric and the liquid isn't water and _why are there eyes in the sheet_.

He drops the sheet (not a sheet, not fabric) and jumps back, panting. The creature hisses, all beauty and gentleness vanishing in an instant. The sheet is gone, and floating in the Naka river is the corpse of a child. White, pale, wrinkled by the water and death, but worlds away from being a sheet.

A sharp pain, along with a disgusting breaking sound, and Madara looks down. A dry sob escapes his throat, panic and shock mixing as he stares at his broken arms. The creature is getting out of the river, his formal kimono dripping water and blood, and the corpse floats near him until he reaches Madara.

 

“Help me wash it,” it hisses, red eyes glowing on a sickly white face.

 

Madara backs away, incapable of fighting the revulsion and fear. The creatures starts to sing, something old, something that sounds like the common tongue. But it's mangled and the few words he can make out, he doesn't dare focus on. The creature raises its hands and they knot into his hair, tugging on it as he sings.

 

“Madara!”

 

He looks up, gasping on the air he had forgotten to breathe. Sakura is helping Naruto sit down, her sword abandoned by her side.

 

“He's a kannerez noz!”

 

He knows that name. He's heard it before, in his grand-father's mouth at night, when someone was late for dinner. It's enough to get him out of his panic.

 

“Who?” He asks, frantic. “Who is that child?”

 

The creature stops singing.

 

“Who did you kill?”

 

The terrifying aura he seems to project dims, little by little, until the creature is a man again. Sharingan meets blood-red eyes.

 

“Too many,” the man whispers. “So many children, dead by my hand.”

“Why?” Madara asks, softly, trying not to bring back the spirit.

“I didn't have a choice.” His voice wavers, eyes widening. “I did _not_ have a choice, you don't understand!”

“Tell us,” Sakura says, from behind the man.

 

His hair reflects the moonlight, the silk of the kimono flowing around his lean body like a stream. He's beautiful again, and he takes Madara's breath away.

 

“It was war,” the man murmurs. “You don't choose who you kill, in a war.”

“Kami,” Naruto says. “Look at him.”

 

Madara blinks at his teammate, puzzled.

 

“ _Look_! Give him brown hair, a warring era armour. Who does he look like?”

“No...” Sakura breathes.

 

Madara sees it too, now that he knows what to look for. The hair is too short, the skin is too pale, and of course, the hair colour and the eyes but... he's seen that face before. In a history book.

 

“Senju Tobirama? Are you Senju Tobirama, Shodaime Hokage?”

 

He's a legend. Tobirama was Hokage two years before disappearing, and his older brother had taken his place as Nidaime. No one knows what happened to him.

 

“Tobirama,” the man says, tasting the name like a sour fruit. “That was my name.”

“What happened?”

“I need to wash it away. All the blood. I need to wash it.”

“You don't have to,” Naruto says. “The war is over. We don't send children to the battlefield anymore. You can stop.”

“I can't stop until it's clean.”

“There's nothing more to wash,” Sakura says softly. “It's over.”

 

The man is looking at his hands, almost glowing in the night. He turns around, and Madara follows his eyes, but there isn't a child floating in the river anymore. Not even a sheet.

His white hair begins to drip, but it's not water, it's something pearly. The more it drips, the browner the locks are, and it's washing his face too, bringing back the tan he's sporting in the history books. Finally, he looks up, and brown eyes meet Madara's. His bright smile comes back, and just like that, the man is gone.

 

 

 

Naruto and Sakura offer to come back with him to the Compound, but he declines. They all deserve to sleep somewhere they trust, and he knows that's not the Uchiha lands for them. The comfort he finds in his own room, however, is worth the solitude. He can finally take off his clothes, feeling like he came back from that mission weeks ago. His arms still ache, and he's glad the Uchiha medic didn't ask any questions when Madara woke him up to heal him. No matter what his sense of time, there is still mud under his nails and behind his ears, so he takes a clean yukata, and he heads for the bathroom.

He sits on the stool in the shower, relieving in the feeling of sitting down and not moving for a while. Once he's clean, he bypasses the bath and goes straight to brushing his teeth, promising himself he'll use the warm water in the morning. He finishes rinsing his mouth and takes a look at himself in the mirror, exhaustion lines and messed-up hair in display.

He screams.

 

“Hello,” Tobirama says from behind him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! It was really fun, incorporating a myth from my country, for once x) The kannerezed noz, also known as lavandières de nuit, are female spirits condemned to wash sheets for eternity if they killed their own child. You can see them at night, in well-known streams and fountains. They'll call for help washing their sheets. If you decide to help them, you need to twist the sheets in the same direction as them, otherwhise they'll break your arms and strangle you with the fabric. They are absolutely terrifying and I'm half-convinced they really exist because man, you haven't been in a French countryside at night.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Tomorrow Will Take Us Away](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16059737) by [Sharkseye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharkseye/pseuds/Sharkseye)




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